New Neighbors
by Michael-Harambay
Summary: Apparently they have cosmic neighbors. Who knew.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The war had taken its toll. Their whole planet, not dead, yet, but dying. Many onboard hoped to be able to return to it one cycle, once the core had healed. But that could take hundreds of thousands of years. For now, they would remain in a kind of exile, wandering the stars in the Autobot's flagship - really a glorified cargo hauler - the Ark.

Prime needed to find a planet with enough resources to produce energon for the troops' rations and refuel and repair the ship. So far, the scientists onboard had found stable stars to gather solar and thermal energy from. But those forms of energy only partially alleviated the crisis he feared would soon become too large to ignore.

"There's an old lunar mining outpost within our current quadrant, it may have some energon." Trailbreaker said, glancing over his shoulder guards to see what Prowl thought of the fact.

His stoic commander frowned. "Mining outpost? If it's all the way out here, it must be abandoned for some time."

Smokescreen, eavesdropping from his terminal (like he do), looked up from the screen to throw in his 2 credits. "Sir, since the outpost is 'all the way out here', it could have _some_ energon left, because the 'Cons won't know to look for it, right?"

Prowl swiveled his seat to look at the younger tactician quizzically. "An abandoned mine has surely been stripped of all its worthwhile energon."

"Actually, Sir," Trailbreaker began, not wanting to sound insubordinate, "Mining outpost delta-3-3-7-4 has been non operational for approximately 600,000 vorns. According to records It was created during the end of the Golden Age. Energon mines at that time were considered exhausted once all the crystals at or above a 79% purity grade were extracted. The primary market for energon extended mainly to higher grades, therefore theoretically, the mine could have been abandoned with many lower grade crystals still inside."

Prowl tilted his head, inwardly thoughtful but outwardly expressionless. "Thank you for your input, Trailbreaker. While I do not see much value in going after low grade energon - if there even is any energon - I will discuss the matter with the Prime."

Trailbreaker glanced at Smokescreen, who was grinning at him over Prowl's shoulder for the backup. Later that orn, during an officer's meeting, Prowl kept his word and mentioned Trailbreaker's findings. After much debate, Prime had to admit it was too good a chance for energon - unlikely as it was - to pass up. The new coordinates were set.

"Put your mask on you idiot!" said Ryan, pitching his spare at Lauren and smiling when it happened to hit her. The impact made her tumble backwards off her knee-high seat with a squawk . Daniel, who was sitting next to her, almost did the same from laughing so hard.

"Hey!"

"This isn't earth. While there is some oxygen in the air, it doesn't make up enough of this moon's atmosphere to keep us alive." Ryan said in lieu of an apology, smirking.

"Chill," Lauren said, reseating herself on the ruined wall and crossing her legs, " I was just enjoying not having to wear any equipment on another plan-moon-for a minute. I was gonna put it back on in time. Duh." She noticed he was carrying something in his fist. "Where were you just now? Find anything interesting?"

Ryan uncurled his hand so that both his crewmates could see the blue rock he held. "Just more of these crystals. Kinda like the ones back on Earth."

"Pretty." Lauren commented. Daniel's radio buzzed in his pocket, and he got up, walking away a bit to take the call. Lauren shifted her gaze from the rock to its holder and asked on a more serious note, "So, who d'you think built this place?"

Ryan shrugged. "I have no clue. The Captain thinks it must have been done by the old settlers or something, but I don't know. People all the way out here? If they were colonizers like with Mars and Seros-2 then why did they abandon the place? Seems like a waste of good metal." He said, vaguely gesturing with his hand to the expanse of broken metal roadways, structures, and what was obviously mines. But mining what?

"I don't think the this place is completely abandoned." Daniel said as he jogged back over, having heard that last bit. He looked uneasy, and put his radio back in a pants pocket. Ryan inwardly wondered how much stuff Daniel carried around in those cargo pants, there were so many pockets. "That was Briggs. The radar buoy we deployed about a _parsec_ out is picking up a ship. A _big_ ship."

Ryan swore, and Lauren jumped up. " _Shit_! Pirates!?"

"They're...not...sure." Daniel replied in between breaths. They were running now, breathing deeply and dodging the bits of the ruins strung out in their path. Back to the ship. They were about half a mile away from the shuttle that could take them there.

The uneven ground suddenly gave way beneath Ryan's feet, though thankfully the drop into the unstable mine wasn't far enough to break anything. Apparently the colonizers had mined close to the surface. Ryan sat on his ass, stunned for second that nothing was broken, before shakily getting up and dizzily dusting himself off. He looked up. Lauren and daniel looked down.

"RYAN! You okay?!" Lauren shouted.

"Yeah!" he yelled. Daniel sighed in relief before getting on his radio while Lauren circled the hole.

"Can you climb up?" She demanded.

Daniel said, "Houston, we have a problem." into his radio in a weirdly calm voice. Ryan looked at the jumble of rocks and metal that had collapsed under him. " _Hell_ no."

He looked away from the hole in the roof to the rest of the mine shaft he was in, and saw several veins of the blue crystals he had found earlier running in either direction. They sparkled from the sunlight.

"Look," Ryan said, sucking in a breath to steady himself against what he was about to say, "Go back without me. Drop all the emergency rations you guys have in here with me and beat it back to the ship. Dalton will steer it out of the area before they even get here, and they'll lose interest in a day, maybe two, when they can't find you. Then they'll leave, and you guys can come get me." Daniel looked especially ready to protest, but Ryan barked preemptively, "That's an order!" He hated giving orders to his friends, but he had the authority to make tough calls in tough situations. And now was definitely one of those situations.

Daniel dropped his bag into the hole and disappeared from view. Yup, he was pissed. Lauren's rations hit the ground too, and she said, "Set up the long-range repeater if you need help before then We _will_ come get you" before also running out of sight to catch up with Daniel. Soon their footsteps faded.

Perceptor smiled. According to the ship's close range scanners, the lunar mine had more energon and at a better grade than they'd originally hoped. Even _he_ would admit that mid grade energon wasn't the most fuel efficient (or enjoyable). But if that's what they could get, that's what they would take. Beggars weren't choosers. Prime's voice rumbled over the general comms:

 _-Perceptor, open the shuttle bay doors-_

Perceptor transformed into his root mode and typed in the access code.

 _-Door opening now, Prime-_

While it would have been nice to get off the Ark even for a little bit, his alt mode would only hinder those gathering the energon. Those leaving included Hound (who Prime reasoned could use the experience), the aerialbots (who could use a chance to stretch their wings, being unable to fly anywhere but in the practice bay), Bluestreak (because he wouldn't shut up), Ironhide, and many of the stronger framed bots along with the necessary drilling and storing equipment. Perceptor watched the small fleet of shuttles approach and enter the atmosphere on one of the Central Hub's screens. He fervently hoped all would go well and they would bring back the needed energon.

Hound and Bluestreak raced each other to the area they had been told to inspect, most of the others extracting from the first mine shaft or checking other openings near it.

"I would have won that last one if not for this debris." Hound declared as he transformed, Bluestreak circling back and transforming beside him with a smile.

"Oh come on the roads are still mostly intact it's not like this metal is that corroded, and I was way ahead of you. This mine entrance looks kind of creepy, don't you think? I mean it's all abandoned and dark and kinda creepy, which duh It's dark because it's underground and obviously we already knew those people from the Golden Age abandoned it nearly three deca-vorns ago but still…-"

The two walked into the entrance, their peds thumping loudly against the stone floor. Bluestreak was right about it being dark, and they both switched their optics to bright/night vision. Small veins ran along the walls. Nothing big, but possibly worth extracting. The energon crystals glowed faintly. The air was dusty. Sunlight briefly reflected off of Hound's green armor from a hole in the roof. His scanners didn't pick up anyone besides Bluestreak, yet the scout couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't alone.

 _-Hound to Ironhide, our area's clear-_

 _-Anythin' we can use?-_

 _-There's some smaller veins, but I'm detecting larger amounts within the walls. We will definitely need to drill for it.-_

 _-Mark your position, I'm sending one of tha crews. That second shaft we were exploring wasn't deep.-_

In half a groon fifteen bots - led by a green mech named Springer - arrived and got to it.

 _-Uhhhhhhhh, Boss?...I got a...problem...you might want to get down here-_

Springer hadn't even noticed one of his mechs was missing. His engined revved.

 _-Sunstreaker get back here! This isn't the time for spelunking, we got a job to do!-_

A red servo rested on his shoulder, and Springer turned around to see a disturbed looking Sideswipe. "What?"

"Sir, I really think you should go see what Sunstreaker...found." At the frontliner's tone, Springer begrudgingly agreed to go check.

"This had better not be some prank," he said, stalking down the corridor after the errant Sunstreaker. Probably trying to get out of soiling his armor doing actual work.

"Sir." Sunstreaker greeted him stiffly when he found the yellow menace. Woah. Sunstreaker was being polite. This might be more serious than he thought.

"Well? What is it?" Springer asked.

Sunstreaker merely pointed, and said, "I don't know." Springer's gaze followed the gesture. All he saw was rocks, energon, and more rocks. Wait. Something was moving. He took a few steps forward, and realized that the thing he'd taken for a darker rock wasn't a rock. It was a lump of...something...steadily moving up and down. He looked back at Sunstreaker, then the moving thing, then at Sunstreaker again. Sunstreaker shrugged.

Tentatively he kicked it, and grimaced at the soft texture. Then the figure made a noise. A groan? Springer and Sunstreaker both backpedaled and unsubspaced their guns while the - mech? - uncurled.

The masked figure stared at them silently, unmoving, as if any sudden move would make them disappear.

"What. The. Frag." Sunstreaker vented. Oops. Startled by the noise the strange mech leapt to his peds, his shaggy armor swaying with the motion. Sunstreaker aimed his gun at the stranger, a gesture he thought would make him stop moving. But perhaps the the unknown mech saw the action as a challenge or worth the risk, because he unsubspaced a primitive gun of some kind out of his flimsy armor and fired.

Sunstreaker snarled, not because he was hurt by the weak projectiles that bounced off his armor with a clink but because someone would _dare_ have the audacity to shoot at him. So he fired back, before Springer's shout of "NO!" could register. The EMP round hit the mech squarely in the chest plates, causing him to double over with an energon curdling shriek and lurch to the ground. Then he stopped moving. There was a burnt smell.

"SUNSTREAKER!" yelled Springer, running to the unknown and probably hostile mech. The 'bot didn't move. "You offlined him!"

"He started it!" The golden warrior defended. Springer put his hands on the black mech's armor, and immediately noticed three things - one: the armor was surprisingly warm, two: the chest plates were moving (barely). Why did this mech vent so much? And three: The mech's armor was malleable. The frag kind of useless armor was this stranger wearing?

"He's still functioning. I...think"

Sunstreaker poked the downed form with his ped. "I have a bad feeling about this. His armor is fragging _weird_."

"I know. For some reason my scanners aren't functioning properly, they aren't detecting a spark signature."

"Mine aren't either. Fragger must have a short range scrambler on him."

Springer tilted his head thoughtfully. "Perhaps Wheeljack or Ratchet can figure it out. He needs medical attention. Here," Springer said, looking up at Sunstreaker, "help me carry him back to the shuttle."

The frontliner scooted away in offense, or maybe disgust. "What, n-no, I'm NOT carrying that weird, filthy mech up a mine! I-uh, I should actually get back to helping the team, yeah…." He transformed and zoomed out of there before Springer could order him not to.

Springer stared at the dust created by Sunstreaker's hasty retreat at a loss. He could get Prowl to punish him for his insubordination later. He paced around the prone figure on the ground.

Eventually electing to grasp him by a trod (which was still warm, and slightly squishy - ew), he hoisted the smaller mech carefully over his shoulder guard, opening a commline.

 _-Springer to Ironhide, I need to take one of the shuttles back to the Ark-_

 _-What for? Party's just gettin' started over here. Is somebot' injured?-_

 _-Yes and no, Sunstreaker and I have found what appears to be a mech, but we're not exactly sure. Perceptor or Ratchet needs to look at him, because Sunstreaker shot him-_

Silence, then:

 _-Well don't just stand around, take shuttle C-1-7!-_

 _-Understood-_

Springer marched past his teammates when he reached their work area, noting a conveniently absent Sunstreaker and garnering several looks. Nobody said anything to him though, probably due to the ticked off feeling he was projecting into his EM field. Even Bluestreak kept his mouth shut. He marched past them, out of the mine, and all the way to the specified - and smallest - shuttle. It was only once he was sitting at the controls with the body laid out on the seats in the cargo compartment that he opened a three-way comm between Wheeljack, Ratchet, and himself.

 _-Ratchet, I have an unknown mech down from an EMP charge to the chest-plates. His frame is of an unknown make. I am not sure what is wrong with him. Wheeljack, you are the most knowledgeable when it comes to the different frame types. Trust me Ratchet, you might need Wheeljack's opinion. This guy is slagging weird-_

There was a peace before the storm, and then Ratchet's curses thundered across the private line. Ah yes. Always good to talk to the doc. After explaining to the best of his ability, which wasn't much, he left them to hash it out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Ratchet was in the shuttle bay waiting for him with a fidgeting Wheeljack in tow. The CMO had a lift gurney - a type of gurney that floated above the ground using thrusters to limit the bouncing of the patient over possibly uneven terrain. Ratchet made a wtf expression when Springer laid the unconscious mech on it. The flimsiness of the stranger's armor was heavily apparent.

"Told you this guy had a fragging weird frame."

Wheeljack nodded as Ratchet pushed the Cybertronian stretcher down the Ark's hallways and Springer walked the pair to the medbay. The stranger no longer his problem, he left to return to the moon's surface.

"I don't recognize the material this armor is forged from." Wheeljack said, positioning the limp mech on an operation table. Ratchet scanned the body repeatedly, his equipment coming up scrambled every time.

"He must have a scrambler; I am detecting no spark pulse, and his ventilations are coming too often. His systems could be overheating."

Wheeljack ran a servo through the fuzzy strings of carbon attached to small mech's helm. "And what's this fuzzy stuff?" he interrupted.

Ratchet motioned to Wheeljack, "Hand me the scalpel."

When Wheeljack handed it over he began cutting through the odd mesh-like armor on one arm. Removing it, he saw for the first time what appeared to be tan colored protoform. Medic and scientist stared. Ratchet gingerly picked it up, feeling its softness and warmth and smoothness and a faint pulse and-

" _This is no Cybertronian_."

Wheeljack leaned on the berth, and neither of them said anything for a long breem. Ratchet carefully put down the scalpel and looked at his friend. Wheeljack looked just as confused. And also slightly horrified. In the silence the...whatever it was's chest rose and fell rhythmically.

 _-Perceptor, Skyfire, you are both needed in the medbay. NOW!-_

 _-What is the matter Ratchet? I'm afraid I'm quite preoccupied at the moment wi- -_

 _-I don't care!-_ Ratchet snarled at Perceptor, worked up. _\- That's an order!-_

 _-Yes sir-_ Perceptor said, knowing this was not a battle he could win. He'd have to finish rewiring the moleculon fuse he was working on later.

Skyfire chimed in with an _-Affirmative-_ before shutting his end of the line.

It wasn't five breems before the medic had two inquisitive scientists at his door.

"What is it Ratchet?" Perceptor asked.

" _You_ tell me." ratchet said, moving to unblock the doorway. Skyfire saw that they weren't alone - a worried looking Wheeljack was standing next to a mech lying on one of Ratchet's examination berths. Wait, not a mech, he slowly realized as he got closer...at about the same time that Perceptor did. The microscope rushed ahead to the table.

"What the...Primus...Where did you _get_ this?!" Perceptor crowed gleefully. He lifted the unarmored arm, feeling its texture and warmth with a sort of morbid curiosity. The advanced sensors in his digits also detected a weak pulsing.

"This is truly remarkable! Skyfire, look at these readings, they're off the charts."

One of Perceptor's digits transformed into scalpel, which he used to scrape off a thin layer of the tan arm's protoform. Retracting it, he stepped away from the berth and transformed into his microscope mode to investigate the foreign matter.

Ignoring his fellow's shenanigans, Skyfire approached the table and noted the rising and falling chest. He put a large servo on it to feel the thing's ventilation cycles. Perceptor chose that moment to transform back into his root mode. He was actually smiling.

"Cells." was all he said.

Skyfire halted his own examination. "What?"

"As a xenobiologist, you wrote a research paper on the topic of single celled organisms, yes?" The jet nodded, unsure where this was going.

"This...lifeform," Perceptor continued, "is composed of billions, I'd say _trillions_ of cells. It's a multicelled organic lifeform."

It took Skyfire a moment to comprehend what Perceptor was saying. Then he too smiled. "Perceptor, there is no documentation of an organic lifeform so complex."

"Indeed. This is an amazing research opportunity."

Ratchet piped up from the background, "So...what is this slagging thing and what is it doing in my medbay?" Perceptor and Skyfire turned their attention to him, and Perceptor dropped the 'arm' he had been inspecting.

"We are not sure "why it's in your medbay", but I do believe this is some kind of organic lifeform."

"So...an alien? Cool." Wheeljack said. None of the conversing mechs could have known that the 'organic lifeform' had opened its optics behind its visored mask as it began to regain consciousness.

* * *

He was...in a room? There was a grey ceiling above him. What was he doing back on the ship? Had Lauren and Daniel already returned? Wait, there had been robots…. His mind froze.

No.

He didn't recognize the ceiling. Maybe Dalton could have repainted it. He heard voices, or at least he thought it was voices. The beeps and buzzes were coming from right next to him. Was it the robots from earlier?

NO, stop it. Calm down.

Dalton repainted the ceiling. Dalton repainted the ceiling. Dalton repainted the ceiling and he had just imagined the robots in that mine earlier and those beeps and whirrs were computers or something and Lauren had rescued him while he was asleep and his sleeve was cut off because he could feel a cold metal table beneath him-

Okay, that last bit was enough to freak him out. He quietly propped himself up on one elbow. And froze. RIGHT NEXT TO HIM stood two robots with their backs to him, both probably - okay, one _definitely_ \- a little bigger than him. The larger one, white with wings, was closer. There was a red one with some cylindrical thing on a shoulder. He realized there were two more robots in the room, which explained the voices, further away. By the robots that were facing him's change in expressions - on an eerily humanoid face - Ryan doubted he could pretend to still be asleep. Shit.

The robot with fins on the side of it's head must have cried robot for 'shit', because the two closer robots spun around to face him. Intimidated by their sudden movement and now glaringly obvious proximity, he rolled off the other side of the table with a shriek.

Backupbackupbackupback- his back hit the wall. The four robots hadn't moved toward him yet, but were now beeping at each other. Wonderful. The white one with a red V on his forehead seemed particularly displeased. The red and white robots that had been closer to him buzzed and whirred rapidly to each other before finally seeming to come to a decision.

White-with-wings moved around the right side of the table with slow, tentative steps, while red-shoulder-robot slowly went around the left of it. White-with-wings was purring at him - or at least, that's what he interpreted the noise to be - while steadily approaching. Frantically Ryan glanced to either side for a way out, and, realizing a door was to the right, bolted for it.

Unfortunately, the white robot was to his right as well. He didn't make it to the door before metal arms wrapped around him, halting his escape. That's when he started yelling. He kicked and thrashed, but he may as well have been attacking a wall for all it mattered. A metal arm swept under his legs so that the robot carried him bridal style back to the table. It sat down on the table's edge and continued to just hold him while he struggled. The other robots beeped at his shenanigans as if in conversation, and it took Ryan a good five minutes of flailing to figure out that he wasn't going anywhere. He went still, tired.

The red robot with a shoulder thing drew closer and swept a wave of light over him that he flinched at. But it didn't hurt. The robot looked at a display on its arm (cool) and beeped at the others. A lengthy conversation of clicks and whirrs ensued.

When the round of noise subsided the robot holding him said something, to which the red one made a nodding/head bobbing motion. The robot holding him shifted its grip so that he was restrained with one large arm while the other was free. Its free hand felt along the edge of his mask.

"NOOOOO!" The man shouted, renewing his struggles. Was there enough oxygen in the room? He was going to suffocate. The renewed squirming gave the robot pause, and it stopped attempting to find the latch on his mask.

The finned robot was beeping at the one holding him. It approached them and ran a finger down his still sleeved arm, probably curious about the clothing.

"Get off me!" Ryan wailed, twisting in the white robot's hold to see the finned one. It immediately backed off, surprised by his outburst or maybe just offended. Then the angry looking one said something.

The one holding him slowly got up, and let him stand on his own two feet while holding on to his wrists. Of course he tried to pull away. Then he was being dragged towards the door, the red and finned robots following behind them.

Ryan was led into a blisteringly orange maze of hallways, trying to pull away from the white robot's firm grip on one wrist unsuccessfully. Where was he? Was he on a freaking _ship_? They passed a window that looked out into space and his heart dropped. He'd been fucking abducted by aliens. This was so _not_ happening.

He wanted to sob when the door he was eventually led to opened to reveal a tall, long room - at least the size of a football field - filled with cabinets, cluttered tools, screens, glass containers, (full of what he didn't want to know), and tables. It reminded him of a laboratory.

The other three robots went ahead while the one holding on to him remained behind in the doorway. He could hear rummaging and the rapid moving of things, as if the robots were kids who didn't clean their room and their mom was now coming to inspect it. After a minute of this he was prodded into the room to the sound of the door closing up behind them. That was when the white robot let go of him.

Hmmm. Run to the opposite side of the room it was. When he got to the far end he turned to see the three aliens watching him, but none had made a move to grab him. At least now there was a little distance between them.

* * *

"What do mean he disappeared?" Michael asked, legit confused.

A stricken Lauren snapped, "That's exactly what I mean! We found the radio and rations he had with him, but _he's_ just _gone_! It hasn't been two days since we outran those pirates."

Here Dalton, from his seat at the controls, piped up. "You think our boy got captured by them?"

"It's a possibility" the captain admitted.

"His suit!" Stated Lauren. "His suit has a tracker I it!"

"Yeah, a tracker that's meant for solar system tracking." Dalton interrupted. "If those guys got him, they're probably long gone by now."

Lauren glared at him, "Turn it on."

Michael sighed, but nodded at the navigator if for nothing else than to appease the distraught Lauren. Dalton turned around to his controls and typed something. He suddenly exclaimed-

"What the _fuck!?_ What's he doing out there?"

Ryan's suit signal was just on the edge of the system they were currently in, and steadily moving away. Damn. Idiot really _did_ get himself captured by pirates. Lauren turned back to Michael, pleading.

"Captain, we _have_ to go after him."

Michael thought about it. He liked Ryan. And it wasn't like they had something better to do.

"Fine," he said, going to stand beside Dalton and lean on the backside of the man's chair, "cloak the ship and follow that signal."

"Yes sir."

He glanced over his shoulder at Lauren. "Oh, and alert the others that we might be in for a bumpy ride." Lauren nodded and left the bridge, sliding down the ladder with practiced ease to the deck below.

* * *

A cheerful voice shrieked "Ironhide!" before its owner attached himself to the red mech's ped. Ironhide grinned at his miniature attacker.

"Did you guys find a lot of energon? Hound said you guys found something else down there, but he won't tell me what. Were you at a meeting just now? What was it about? Can I see what you guys found on the moon?"

"Bumblebee, slow down." Ironhide said. "You sound like Bluestreak." Inquisitive little bitlet.

To answer the question..."Yes, I was at an officer's meeting," he said truthfully, not wanting to lie to his charge. "And yes, we _did_ find something...interesting on the moon. At least, Perceptor thinks so. But I'm afraid I can't tell you about that right now."

"Awwwww." the youngling pouted. Ironhide smiled,

"You hungry?"

"Yeah!"

"Then why don't you go get some energon in the rec room? I'll catch up later. Prowl and Red Alert are demanding Springer and I fill out a bunch of reports."

The seriousness of both the second in command _and_ the security director wanting his guardian to fill out reports about whatever happened on the moon escaped the youngling because he brightly said "Okay!" before zipping out the door.

Bumblebee made it about ⅔ the way to the rec room before he realized he was alone. Alone to do whatever he wanted - like going to find out whatever was so interesting to everybody. No one ever told him anything.

But Ironhide had said he couldn't tell Bumblebee, not that Bumblebee couldn't go look for himself. But where would they put it? Ooh! Perceptor might know. He was the smartest autobot Bumblebee knew, and surely he could tell him. With that thought in mind, the little mech headed towards the scientist's lab.

He didn't want Ironhide to catch him, so he snuck through the vents (Jazz was always saying how Bumblebee should become a special ops mech with all his sneaking skills). Pretty soon he was in the vents above Perceptor's lab. Peering through a grate, he didn't see anything interesting. Aww. What a wasted trip. But wait, maybe the fun thing was out of sight?

Unscrewing the grate from his side, the little bot entered the lab. It really _was_ empty. Then he noticed a black mech laying on the floor against the far wall, his back to him. Who was that? "Hello?" Bumblebee called, completely unafraid of the stranger. Seeing as everyone already sort of knew everyone else on the Autobot ship anyway, 'stranger danger' wasn't really emphasized. If the mech was a Decepticon, he'd be in the brig.

The mech didn't reply, so Bumblebee got closer. About twenty feet away, the youngling felt something was off. The mech's middle was rising and falling steadily. His helm had fuzzy stuff on it. "H-Hello?"

The mech still didn't respond. Walking up to him, Bumblebee saw a strange...box?...beside the mech, made of meshy-fabric and open, with straps on one side. What was this device? The youngling went over to inspect it, ignoring the weird, recharging mech. He giggled. It was like a tent!

* * *

"What is this shit." Dalton gasped, gaping at the view screen. Michael shook his head, at a loss.

"I've never seen such an advanced pirate ship."

"Are those even pirates?" asked Lauren, her head peeping over the ladder's opening. She finished climbing into the bridge and stood next to Dalton, staring at the large orange ship on the screen.

"Dalton," Michael said, "Can you pinpoint Ryan's location on that thing?"

"Trying, Sir. Yes! Tracker pinging exact coordinates now, looks like he's on the closer side. Coordinates reading 0-9-8-7 by -9-5-3-8-7-1."

"You have the bridge, Dalton."

Michael looked pointedly at Lauren. "Get Evans and Carter and suit up. Meet me in the teleporter room."

Dalton spun his chair around (a rolly chair, because rolly chairs were the bomb), and protested,

"But teleporters only work short range, and we can't remained cloaked while they're in operation!"

His captain smirked. "Exactly. But we're cloaked now, aren't we? Settle us alongside their ship, as close to Ryan's signal as possible without decloaking. We'll set a predetermined timer of five minutes on our suits so that we get teleported back at that time. Once we've been teleported aboard, hopefully to Ryan's position, recloak and do whatever you need to; just be back here and ready to decloak again exactly five minutes later."

Michael surveyed his assembled teammates. "You guys ready?"

Carter grinned, "Let's do it."

Michael turned to Evans, who shrugged. "Sure. Ryan owes me money." Lauren nodded. Michael slapped the comm link located on the left arm of his suit.

"Dalton man, let's get this party started."

Dalton decloaked the ship. "Decloaking now"

* * *

"Sir, detecting an unknown vessel off the right side. Warp capacity, unknown hull makeup. Detecting no spark signatures." Ratchet looked up from where he'd been lecturing Drivetrain on the avoidance of proper maintenance checks, having tracked him to the bridge. "Decepticon?" He asked tensely.

Slingshot, from his side of the control console, spoke up. "Unknown sir, they are not responding to our hailing frequencies." Ratchet heard someone else mutter, "The frag kind of ship design is this?" The medic opened a comm on the officers' channel.

-Prime, we're picking up a ship practically on top of us, cloaking technology unknown.-

-Decepticon?- his leader's voice inquired.

-can't tell. Detecting no spark signatures onboard the craft.-

Suddenly Perceptor entered the conversation: -Scan it for carbon and electrical signatures!-

"Slingshot, scan the ship for carbon or electrical traces."

Slingshot sounded confused, "That's just it, Sir, the vessel appears to _run_ on electricity."

The bridge vent silent. Electricity was an extremely wasteful, primitive, and potentially dangerous form of energy compared to energon.

Red Alert's voice suddenly cut though the command channel,

-Four energy spikes detected in the West Wing, Perceptor, near you! They must have fired some kind of weapon!-

-Then let's fire back- Ironhide suggested oh-so-helpfully. But Perceptor's voice suddenly yelled over their comm, -Hostiles in lab 6, I repeat hostiles in lab 6! They...it seems our _visitor_ from the moon has friends. Requesting back-...- his voice cut off mid-word.

Ratchet snarled at Slingshot, "Put up the shields, dammit, somehow we've been boarded!"

But Slingshot said, "Sir, the...ship has disappeared."

"What?!"

But it was true, the ship was gone from their sensors. Ratchet had more important things to worry about as he sprinted out of the bridge towards Perceptor's lab. It took him maybe two breems to reach the area. Perceptor was leaning against a wall outside the lab, clutching a shoulder, and the medic realized half his shoulder scope was missing.

Personally he was thankful that was _all_ the scientist had missing, even if it would make it impossible for Perceptor to transform until repairs were completed. A broken scope he could fix.

"Who did this?" He asked gently, beginning to patch up the wound. Perceptor grimaced.

" _They_ did. I did not think the weapons would be so powerful, they are almost primitive in their construction."

Ratchet threw a glance at the open lab doorway. Skyfire and the Twins were nearly obstructing the door, but he could catch a glimpse of overturned tables within. They enemy must have been using them as a shield.

"I told you guys I had a bad feeling about that thing!" Sunstreaker said.

Skyfire chose that moment to poke his head out the door. "Umm...Clear. They're just... _gone_."

"What?!" Sunstreaker growled, shoving past the jet to the overturned tables the enemy had been using as an impromptu barrier moments before. He kicked one of them into the closest wall. "The frag did they go?" Even Perceptor looked stupefied at the sudden disappearance of the aliens.

"I...do not know."

* * *

Ryan sipped the hot chocolate like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. Behind him, Kat was fiddling with something that smelled good in the oven. It had been an hour since he'd been rescued. The two looked up as Captain Michael, Lauren, Evans, and Daniel entered the ship's makeshift 'dining room'.

"How're you feeling?" Asked Evans.

"Alive," Ryan deadpanned. His suit from the day before was strewn about him, as was the backpack and mask he had had with him on the...robot ship.

"So…" Michael began awkwardly, taking a seat.

But Evans cut right to the chase. "Did anyone else notice the robots, or was it just _me_?"

Immediately everyone started talking at once.

"Where did they come from?"

"What the hell were those things?!"

"They're robots, so someone had to build them, right?"

"I didn't see anyone controlling them!"

"I didn't see the robots at all, I wasn't even there!"

"OKAY, _SHUT_ UP!" Michael yelled above the din. When everyone got quiet, he turned to Ryan. "Tell us, what happened." Ryan explained himself, how he had fallen into a mine shaft, about how he had woken up on a strange ship. How he'd been brought to that lab. They hadn't really done anything to him - yet - but he was thankful to be rescued before they could.

After the explanation they all got quite. Quiet enough to hear a 'BEEEEEP?'

Immediately everyone leapt up from the table, Daniel unholstering a gun. On the ground, Ryan's backpack jiggled.

"What the…" Michael started. Then a yellow robot head peeked above the zipper.

"...Fuck." Daniel finished. The yellow robot ducked back into the bag.

"What are you doing?" Lauren hissed when Ryan reached out to grab the backpack. He didn't answer, flipping the backpack upside down to spill its contents before jumping back.

A miniature version of the robots that had abducted him slid out, beeping shrilly. Daniel fired at it and missed, causing it to scamper under the table with a shriek.

"Hold your fire!" Michael shouted at the same time Ryan said "Stop!" Daniel looked at them like he was insulted. "What?"

Ryan squatted to see where it went. His blue eyes met blue - eyes?- peering at him from around a table leg. The little yellow robot was shaking and clicking at him. "Hey, it's actually kinda...cute." Lauren commented, having also leaned down to look. Her words earned her the robot's attention, which it kept switching between the two of them.

"Daniel, put that away." Ryan heard Michael order. Michael's blonde hair bobbed as he swung his head under the table to take a look himslef. "What is _that_ and what is doing in my cafeteria?" Ryan actually chuckled at the absurdity of it all. "Duh, it's one of those robots."

"What was it doing in your backpack?"

"I...that's a good question."

Daniel lowered himself to the ground, gun out of sight. "Let me see." They all stared at it for a minute, before Ryan slowly stuck out his hand to it palm up.

Lauren bumped his shoulder. "It's not a _dog_!"

Ryan ignored her. "Hey there." The robot didn't respond, far too busy watching his hand as it drew closer. "Come 'ere"

It beep-buzzed and shrunk away. Annoyed, Ryan just grabbed it anyway and dragged it out from under the table despite Michael's and Daniel's protests to leave it alone. He stood up, holding the cat sized machine under its arms. It seemed stunned for a second, then wailed at an ear shattering decimal, sounding like a fire alarm. Michael slapped his hands over his ears.

"DUDE!"

"You broke it!" Evans teased, mock diving behind the couch as if it were a bomb ready to explode.

"Please be quiet please be quiet" Ryan repeated, his own ears uncomfortable. It's shrieking died down to staggered clicks within the minute, and Evans poked his eyes above the rim of the couch. "Did the batteries die?"

Uncovering his ears, Daniel said, "Well that was fun."

Lauren stuck out her hands, " _Give_ me that." When she picked it up, it actually burried its face in her arms, clicking.

"Dude, it's _totally_ a baby robot." Evans said, now sitting on the couch. Lauren and Ryan gave him annoyed looks.

Michael had a disturbed expression on his face. "The hell are we supposed to _do_ with this?" he asked Ryan, seeing as he was the one who technically started it all.

"I don't know."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Ironhide entered his quarters, back from _another_ command staff meeting. Red Alert was about to crash from the craziness of it all. Prowl too.

An _alien_ attack? Cybertronians had never found life beyond the stars except for a few planets that held water and some single celled organisms. This was First Contact with an intelligent species.

And they had been attacked.

What had the Ark done to provoke such a thing? He didn't have time to dwell on the situation right now, though. Settling heavily on the metal couch in the middle of his living quarters, he commed Hound.

 _-Hound, send 'Bee back up here, I'm sure he's talked ya' audio off by now-_

There was a pause, then _-Hound to Ironhide, I haven't seen Bumblebee all orn-_

Ironhide sat up straighter, confused and not at all in the mood for one of the sparkling's games of hide and seek at a time like this.

 _-Ironhide to Teletran 1, locate autobot designation: Bumblebee-_

The computerized voice of the massive ship's A.I. simply responded with:

 _-Autobot: "Bumblebee" not located-_

Now the warrior was really starting to get worried. He commed Red Alert, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

 _-Red Alert, Bumblebee is missing. Teletran can't locate 'im.-_

 _-Copy that, searching-_

A breem later Red Alert's voice ordered, weirdly calm,

 _-Meet me in my office-_

A sense of cold dread curled around his spark at Red alert's tone and he arrived at the security director's office in record time. Upon entering, he saw that Prime, Prowl, and Ratchet had also been summoned. They all looked grim.

"Well?" He demanded. "Where is he?!"

Ratchet put a servo on his shoulder, but the red mech shook it off and turned to glare Red Alert.

"Where's Bumblebee?"

Red Alert stood up. And somberly said, "The creatures took him. Most likely by mistake. The surveillance cameras show him using the vents to gain access to Perceptor's lab, and he hid in one of the alien's things when the other ones somehow got aboard. I'm so sorry Ironhide."

But Ironhide wasn't listening. He failed to hear the condolence. He had failed his youngling.

 _No_.

He _wouldn't_ fail Bumblebee. He'd fragging get him _back_ if he had to tear every last one of those things apart to do it.

* * *

" _Houston_ , we _have_ a problem."

"What?" came the muffled reply from somewhere below deck.

"MICHAEL GET YOUR ASS UP HERE WE GOT ALIENS TWO O'CLOCK!" Dalton repeated.

" _What!"_ This time a little more urgent. Michael practically flew up the ladder to the bridge, followed closely by Ryan and Daniel. Dalton was hysterically shouting at his console, "They followed us! They fucking followed us! Fuck! Fuck!"

"But how?" Daniel choked. "We've been cloaked until recently!"

Dalton spun in his rolly chair to face them. "They must have advanced long range scanners or, or, or _something_! I don't know, they're freaking _aliens_!"

"Bring up a visual." Michael ordered calmly, and Daniel skidded to another bridge station, a second later getting the main view screen running. Yup. It was the orange ship from before.

They were doomed.

"Shit man, this isn't happening." muttered Dalton.

"I think...I think they're trying to hail us, Sir." Daniel said, fiddling with some buttons. Michael eyed the image of the ship quickly approaching. What the hell, might as well pick up. He thought amusedly, _ring ring motherfuckers,_ but aloud said,

Go for it."

The image of the ship became fuzzy and the screen blacked out, only to change to the image of an equally orange room. An orange room with windows and consoles that looked very bridge-like. Oh yeah, and a _lot_ of robots. The humans stared at their screen. The robots did the same. Both parties seemed equally confused and/or speechless on what to do now.

Evans broke the silence, having come up into the bridge without the others noticing. "We come in peace!" he said cheerfully and with a small wave of the hand not holding a ladder rung. Michael spun around and glared at him, telling the engineer to shut up with eyes that promised murder later, and the man yelped before sliding back downstairs out of sight.

On screen, a red and blue robot stood in the center of the room, most of its face hidden by a mask. It click-whirr-beeped something, but the meaning was lost on the humans. Another, completely red, robot stood beside this one. It said something too, but its buzzing sounded decidedly more harsh.

Michael tilted his head and made a deliberately confused expression, and slowly said, "I don't understand you." The red and blue robot carefully mimicked his head tilting motion, and clicked some more.

Just then, Dalton said, "I'm detecting a second ship coming out of hyperspace," seconds before the lights went out. The view screen went dark. Within the minute, red tinged lights cut back on with a muted _HMMMMMMM_ , which meant they were running on backup generators now. Fantastic.

"They shot us!" Ryan gasped. Though seriously what wise could he have expected? The ship lurched forward.

"What's _happeniiiiiing_!" Michael sang, annoyed as he struggled for footing. That couldn't be good.

From below someone shouted, "Yo Dalton, fly straight!"

"I don't know," Dalton replied, furiously working at his controls, "everything's down. We're running _blind_."

* * *

"Incoming!"

"Decepticons at coordinates 2-9-8-4, closing fast!"

"They've fired at the alien ship! Scans indicate its power at 39%. Still detecting one spark signature onboard, Sirs."

"Use our tow cables to get that ship in hanger 5, Slingshot." Prime ordered, taking control of the situation. "Trailbreaker, once we have the ship prepare to jump to warp-9. There's a good chance of losing them in the nearby nebula." This was not the time to pick a fight with the Decepticons. Not only were they outgunned, they were in the middle of a possible hostage situation with what was the first intelligent alien life Cybertronians had ever encountered.

And it was only the _beginning_ of the orn.

"Vessel secured Sir, moving out."

The 'Cons of course gave chase, but were lost in the nebula as Prime had predicted; though it was a close call and doubtless they would be lurking around for when the Autobots attempted to leave the comic clouds. So they had that to look forward too. Joy.

"Permission to go to the hanger, _Sir_." Ironhide growled, the arms on his arms hot as his temper. Optimus got the impression he wasn't asking.

Optimus nodded. "I shall accompany you. Ratchet, join us, Bumblebee could be injured."

Ratchet nodded, and the three stalked out of the bridge.

They entered the hanger, where the foreign ship sat silently still. It was by no means a small shuttle, taking up nearly the entire space of the hanger and almost reaching the ceiling. Idly Ironhide wondered if they'd scratched the ship's hull when dragging it in. Served them fragging right.

Mecha on shift, along with many more bots that definitely _weren't_ scheduled to be in here at the moment, stared at the captured vessel warily. Everyone by now had heard that the aliens had kidnapped their resident sparkling. Some looked on curiously, others like they wanted to show the creatures just what that thought of that. But they were keeping a healthy distance along the hanger walls. It _looked_ primitive enough, but for all they knew it could explode at any second or deploy some deadly weapon or other.

Ironhide had no such qualms considering who was being held prisoner inside, and he circled it like a predator surveying its prey, spotting a hatch that could have been an entrance. He considered being mature. Then banged his fist against it.

"Really? _Knocking_?" Ratchet gasped, but he couldn't keep the optic roll out of his voice. The rest of the room broke into hushed whispers and rattled plating at the action. The Prime sighed.

Primus help them.

" _You_ got any ideas?" Ironhide asked. He was thrown for a loop when something on the other side knocked back, like the things were fragging _mocking_ him.

Ironhide instantly changed his hand into a cannon, expression most foul. "That's _it_."

"Ironhide, stand down!"

Ironhide turned to face his Prime. Optimus took a step forward. "Perhaps violence is not the best start." With that, he cleared his vocalizer and focused on the ship. Maybe they could hear him?

He spoke slowly, clearly.

"You are surrounded. Surrender the sparkling and no harm shall come to you."

They waited. The whole room awaited for a response, for at least _some_ attempt at communication, with baited breaths. You could have heard a pin drop.

Which was why everyone heard Ironhide complain after only two breems, "I doubt they can hear us, Prahm, I say we open her up. We don't know what they're doing to Bumblebee in there."

Optimus nodded after a beat. His own kind was most important right now. "Very well."

Ironhide turned back to the ship, cannons heating up, but Ratchet grabbed his arm. "Let me" the medic said, changing his own hand into a laser scalpel. It wouldn't be quite as dramatic an entrance as Ironhide clearly wanted, but that might actually be a good thing. The weak metals the hull consisted of melted easily under the tool's heat.

Ratchet had half expected that to not work, or at least take _way_ longer, and was taken aback. What kind of idiot designed a ship with such weak alloys?!

Ironhide kicked in the improvised door once Ratchet was finished with it. Whoever had repeated his knock must have run off, Ironhide noted, seeing no signs of life. What a strange ship. The party (plus a few other mechs; they'd be damned before letting their Prime board a hostile alien ship unaccompanied) entered the uncomfortably narrow hallways. Some (including Prime) had to hunch forward a little to avoid scraping the ceiling with the top of their helms. What was this? A ship for ants?

"We should split up." Ratchet said at a crossroads of corridors. Prime agreed, because he followed that up with, "Everyone team up in pairs and search every room. I don't care if you have to break down the doors. Bring any of the aliens you find into the hanger, and comm Ratchet immediately if you find Bumblebee. Ironhide, you're with me."

He and Ironhide took a left and then another left, the group of mechs spreading out. _Someone_ had to keep an eye on the weapons specialist. He was clearly itching for a fight, even if the aliens handed over Bumblebee nicely.

 _We're coming for you, 'Bee,_ Ironhide thought tensely. His processor spun faster than his cannons with the horrible possibilities of what the aliens could've inflicted on him, his precious sparkling.

 _Just hold on._

* * *

 **I'm back! Anodythe Appreciate the thought out comment, you've made me want to pick up this story again. Thanks for the inspiration. Anyway, enjoy all! And _Please_ let me know what you think!**


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